


Our Hands Will Never Be Clean

by JackNSallyGal



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Dark, Death, F/M, First War with Voldemort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-30
Updated: 2015-10-30
Packaged: 2018-04-28 20:34:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5104817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JackNSallyGal/pseuds/JackNSallyGal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>War happens like this.</p><p>You’re sitting in the safe house, not the one with the roach problem, the other one, with the drafty windows, when the world explodes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Our Hands Will Never Be Clean

**Author's Note:**

> The title comes from lines in When You Break by Bear's Den

**Present**

War happens like this.

 _You’re sitting in the safe house, not the one with the roach problem, the_ other _one, with the drafty windows._

The one where she hosted a rag-tag birthday party for Sirius, who would only be pulled away from chain smoking in the cold, by Remus, so they could surprise him with his closest friends, and a lopsided cake.

The one that she will always associate with James. Because of the time she crept from one end of it to the other, stepping carefully to avoid the creaks and groans associated with places that have slipped into ruin, as well as the sleeping bodies littered generously throughout.

She reached the end of the hall and fumbled through the darkness to the bed, where James lay with a dog between him and Remus, and a rat squeaking in his sleep on the rickety night table. James said nothing, but she could feel his smile curve against her cheek when she lay in his waiting arms, feeling safer than she had in months.

 _You’re sitting in_ that _safe house, working on a three day stretch without sleep, when the world explodes._

Lily feels it, an instant before the door crashes open and the lights go out. She feels the charge in the air and grabs her wand off the table with one hand, the other hauling Marlene onto the floor with her. The door is blown off its hinges at the same time the room is plunged into darkness, with the sounds of boots thudding closer, and panicked shouts.  

Lily lands half on top of Marlene, whose breath whooshes out on impact. It reminds Lily of training, when they were like puppies, with clumsy feet. Always ready to laugh off an injury or wrongly timed spell.

Except now, Marlene’s hand is fumbling for hers in the darkness, tugging her out of the line of fire. And it’s nothing like training.  

“There’s too many-“

“Can’t make it to…Stupefy!”

Conversation is tabled for later, if they make it out of the horror unfolding all around them. Together, they skirt the edge of the room, firing off spells intended to ease the deadly chaos by taking out as many Death Eaters as possible before they can be completely overwhelmed.

Lily and Marlene crouch together, prepare to establish the next plan of action with a few shouted words, or a look, when the sight of James, and a brilliant flash of green distracts them.

It’s so bright, Lily winces.

She thinks of the will she wrote out a week earlier on the back of a napkin at the pub. Sirius and Peter would have to fight it out for her vinyl, she announced, a bit drunkenly. It earned a grin from Sirius, who said that she had _shit taste in music, anyway_.

Remus, Lily continued, after poking Sirius firmly in the side; payback for the jab, would get the camera he gave her for her birthday, and the photos she’d taken with it. Remus had raised his glass in her direction, and said he’d happily give them a good home.

When James re-appeared, beaming, with a fresh round of drinks, she slipped the napkin into her back pocket, forgotten, and changed the topic of conversation.

Now, everything rushes back to her, the violence blossoms so rapidly when she opens her eyes, she has to swallow back the nausea and keep fighting.

“Did you see-“

“Have to keep-“

“James!” Lily attempts to get to her feet, but Marlene hauls her back down again, holding on to both Lily’s wrists so tightly, there’s sure to be bruises if they make it to morning.

“He’s fine!” Marlene says wildly. “He’s alright-“

“Do you see him?”

“There’s no-“

But Lily’s no longer listening. She breaks free of Marlene’s hold, feels the other woman clamber to her feet after her, but it’s too late. Lily lunges into the thick of things, without looking back.

* * *

 

When it’s over, Lily refuses treatment, nearly knocking Moody over in her effort to get back in the house.

“Evans-“

She shoulders past his solid frame, nearly flying over the doorstep.

The safe house, not the one with the roaches, the drafty one. The one where Sirius reluctantly celebrated his birthday, and Lily went to the man who feels like he’s taken up residence where her heart used to be, smells like death.

She breathes through her mouth, walking as quietly as possible over broken glass, to get to the others. She sees Remus first, speaking quietly with Sirius and Peter. They’re off to the side, distancing themselves from the other Order members speaking with Aurors as they try to put the pieces of the attack together.

Before she can go to them, Dumbledore is at her side with a disheveled Professor McGonagall.

“Ms. Evans, a word?

* * *

 

Lily is left alone in one of the drafty bedrooms to bite her thumbnail ragged, before the door opens, connecting with the wall with a resounding crack that has her nearly jumping out of her skin. They only left her alone for a few moments, but it’s long enough. Practically an eternity stretches between the end of the battle and now, and it’s getting to her.

Dumbledore, Moody, and Professor McGonagall file in, and she doesn’t like the cautious looks she’s receiving.

“Ms. Evans,” Professor McGonagall begins. “We know you’re eager to see Potter-“

“He’s alive? Just…tell me-”

“Yes, of course. He’s being looked after at St. Mungo’s now, but surely you’ll be able to speak with him once we discuss a few things.”

“With all due respect, Professor, if you don’t let me go to him, I’ll-“

“Careful, girl,” Moody says gruffly.

“Potter was seen using the Killing Curse,” McGonagall continues, as if sensing Lily’s fragile tether on her patience. “Which has prompted us to seek you out for any additional information you may have. Which is only natural when something of this nature happens.”

 _Something of this nature_. Lily hunches forward, blocking out their presence as she puts her head in her hands. She remembers the green light, and from that moment until now, she’s experienced nothing but complete, helpless panic.

With the three senior Order members watching her, she lets out a shuddering breath. She allows herself a moment to feel the relief of knowing he’s alive. Until it’s time to get on with things, forcing her to straighten and wipe away the tears gathering in her eyes.

“You want to know his state of mind. If he’s come undone, to do something like that.”

Of the three of them, McGonagall is the only one who appears pained. For the first time that evening, Lily really sees her. She notices the strain around the professor’s eyes, the tightness to her mouth as she shifts a glance, almost accusing, in the direction of the two men.

“Ms. Evans, we do not suspect James of anything other than protecting himself, or his fellow Order members.”

“Then why-“

“We need to be sure,” Dumbledore answers with a kindness that nearly undoes the self-control Lily’s clinging to so precariously. “For James’ sake, and everyone else’s. We trust you to tell us if he’s been acting out of character, or if we have reason to worry. We’re not trying to keep you from him longer than we have to, dear girl.”

“There’s no reason to worry.” Lily forces herself to pause before saying the words, giving them weight. She’s aware of how closely Moody’s looking at her, his scarred face as severe as she’s ever seen it.

“I promise you, if something was the matter, I’d want him to get help. And I’m telling you now, there’s no reason for you to worry.”

* * *

 

**3 days ago**

_“No. They can’t…”_

_Sleep is a luxury these days. Quiet, uninterrupted sleep an impossibility, it turns out._

_Lily comes awake in perfect darkness. She curbs her first instinct, which is to reach out, take hold of James’ shoulder, or even the fabric of his t-shirt, grabbing a fistful and holding on while the nightmares have their way with him._

_But the nightmares aren’t new, and with time, she’s learned that touching him now would be a mistake for them both._

_Last time he thrashed and moaned in his sleep, she curved her body around his from behind, as if it could protect him from whatever was playing out behind his eyes._

_Touch soothed her, and it normally had the same effect on him, as well. But that night, he bucked her away. Moving silently, he threw his arm out, so it landed heavily across her throat, pinning her to the bed. It took several moments of her clawing at his arm, sinking her nails in as she struggled to shift his weight, for him to fully come to, and let her up._

_His guilt was overwhelming, and she could see it each time he looked at her. He spent the next month sleeping in the guest room, hardly daring to touch her, even casually._

_They have only been sharing a bed again for a week now, and she refuses to let them take that much of a step back, and so, she acts with even more caution._

_"Not…her.”_

_Lily eases out of the bed, backing away, while never taking an eye off the figure murmuring and trembling in his sleep._

_“Don’t…take her.”_

_The decision lies between letting him sleep, letting the nightmares have him, or shocking him awake and risking the fallout. And when his words become garbled, so he’s panting for breath and thrashing, she makes the decision without thought._

_Light flares in the room, and James comes awake in an instant. He sits up, dragging in a deep breath at the same time he whirls, wand in hand, pointing it at her chest, a curse on his lips._

_“It’s me,” she says quietly, holding both hands up._

_“Lily…”_

_In the bright light, she can see the sweat gleaming on his smooth, dark skin. Before his next breath, the wand is dropped. It clatters to the floor, forgotten, as his wide eyes search her face._

_“We’re okay,” she says gently._

_“They had you…” he trails off. “Nightmare. Too real.”_

_“Can I come back to bed?”_

_She hates asking, but she wants to give him the chance to think about it. Really think about. Not just having her assume, or having him pretend to be okay if he’s not. She wants to give him the chance to tell her no, and still be out of control if need be._

_He works on getting his breathing under control, before answering._

_“Please.”_

_Lily goes to him immediately. She opens her arms, and when she approaches the bed, he clings to her, resting his head against her chest as she hangs on, smoothing the hair at the nape of his neck, and murmuring nonsensical words of comfort, until they’ve both stopped shaking._

* * *

 

**Present day**

“Sirius, there’s a chance-“

“He didn’t use it. _Don’t_ try to tell me-“

“Both of you, please-“

When Lily arrives back at her flat, she finds Remus, Sirius, and Peter seated outside the bathroom, arguing amongst themselves. If it were any other night, she’d plop herself between them and join in, just for fun.

Tonight, she notices the drink in Remus’ hand, the cigarette in Sirius’, and the way Peter is twisting his, anxious about the fighting. She’s still half tempted to sit among them, stealing sips from the Firewhiskey, puffs from the cigarette, and holding one of Peter’s hands in her own so he can’t torment them. But there’s the problem of the closed bathroom door.

“Is he in there?”

Three heads, in almost comical unison, turn to look at her.

“Yeah, locked himself in,” Sirius answers quietly.

“We debated breaking down the door-“

“Sirius’ brilliant idea, obviously,” Remus manages to tease. Though it’s stilted, he still conveys a deep affection that takes the sting out of the words.

“But we figured if he wanted us in there, well…” Peter trails off.

“I’m going to give it a try.”

They make zero effort to move, and she doesn’t ask them to. However long it takes, she knows they’ll be waiting on the other side when he’s ready to come out.

They watch as she raps lightly on the closed door. Once, twice, and a final time, before faking a smile for everyone’s benefit, and opening it when she receives no answer.

There’s light filtering through the tiny window, from the streetlights outside. It isn’t much, but it’s enough to make out the sight of him, slumped against the wall. She notices his wand, too, and reaches to pick it up on her way over to him.

“You dropped something.”

“I don’t think I’m fit for a wand, just now.”

She’s so relieved, just by the sound of his voice, she lets out a shuddering breath as she settles next to him in the darkness. For now, his wand is perched on the edge of the tub, as she takes one of his hands in hers.

“I didn’t know if you made it tonight.”

His hand, far too cold for her liking, squeezes hers. She does him one better, lifting his arm so she can drape it over her. The weight is comforting, and pressed into his side, she can feel the warmth from his body seeping through his shirt.

“James, listen to me-“

“I know what you’re going to say-“

He shifts to move his arm from where she’s placed it around her, holding her however loosely, and Lily makes a distressed sound low in her throat. He freezes, and she seizes the moment, speaking in a rush, so her words tumble out, clumsy and hurried.

“I thought you died! I saw you, and then…you were gone, after. I thought-“

“No, not me. I killed him, Lily.”

“You did what you had to,” Lily says fiercely. “James, I know this is…hard-“

“He was going for Peter. I saw him…he had the perfect shot. And I had mine.”

* * *

 

**2 months ago**

_There are things all the training in the world can’t prepare you for._

_Disposing of a body with the help a former head of house, is one of them._

_The official story, the one the others have heard, is that Lily’s been injured. She was whisked away to Mungo’s to be looked at, but with the confusion of the attack, everyone is to stay put. No apparating or Flooing until further notice._

_Lily isn’t sure how Professor McGonagall manages to get James and the others to follow the order, but she does._

_They have much bigger problems to contend with._

_“Now, the easiest solution,” Lily glances up sharply at the Professor’s word choice, and Minerva McGonagall continues without pause, “Would be the use of magic. But we can’t risk it being traced. The Killing Curse alone has put you at risk.”_

_Lily’s glance slips from the Professor, who is remarkably calm in the face of Lily’s panic, to the body, laying in the space between them. She doesn’t recognize the face, hadn’t known who it was when she encountered him hovering over an unconscious Marlene on the outskirts of the battle._

_She’d uttered the Killing Curse with intent, and without too much additional thought, other than protecting Marlene and getting back to the fight. And only after, when she caught sight of the gleaming red pin winking at her from the fabric of his robe, had she realized what she’d done._

_Killing a Death Eater in battle was one thing, but killing one of the most prized members of the Dark would carry consequences not just for Lily, but those she loved. There had been dozens of reports in the last year alone of the brutal, horrifying retaliations carried out by the Dark when one of their Lord’s favorites was taken from him, especially when they knew just who, from the Light, was to blame._

_Which is why Lily had turned to Professor McGonagall, having spotted her in the fray, and pulled her aside, whispering furiously about what she’d done. It had taken all of Lily’s nerve, having dragged the body further into the woods, with the help of Marlene, to then approach her head of house to beg for help, risking being turned in to Aurors, or worse._

_“W-what,” Lily says around chattering teeth, “Do we do, then?”_

_“We burn the body. Without magic.”_

_“Oh, Merlin. Oh, fuck…”_

_Marlene presses a hand against her mouth, but it’s of little use. She pivots, removing her hand and heaving into the bushes. Lily goes to her, rubbing her back with jerky hands, until the other woman stands upright, wiping at her mouth, and leaning against Lily for support._

_“I need both of your help preparing, but once we have all we need, you two will return to the designated safe house, and not speak of this to anyone. Understand?”_

_“Y-yes.”_

_“Thank you, Professor.”_

_“Alright. Now, first…”_

* * *

 

**Present**

Lily can’t stand the self-incrimination weighing down his words. She can practically feel it festering in James as they sit, side by side, hand in hand, in the dark.

So she brings the light to him. She banishes the shame of it by leaving his side, rushing to the other side of the room to flip the switch, so they’re bathed in light, so they can see one another clearly for the first time in hours.

James blinks, bringing a hand up to wipe at his face. She almost takes him by the arm, dragging him across the room to the mirror. To show him, once and for all, that the face looking back at him is the one she’s loved for so long, that it’s still _him_ , and not a monster.

His downfall, _one of many_ , they’d often joke, is assuming the best of her, always better than him, at any rate, whether she deserves it or not. So, she doesn’t take him to the mirror. She merely settles in front of him this time, catching his eye when he would look away.

Slowly, gently, she takes his face in her hands, her skin pale against his. She brings him back to the present by smoothing her thumbs over his cheeks, and measuring her words, the way she did not so long ago, in order for Moody to hear the truth in what needed saying.

“I would do the same in a heartbeat.”

She almost just blurts it out. Quick, to the point _: I have done the same. I live with it every day, and I’d do it again._

Maybe someday she’ll tell him. Take him through the night, point by point, and what led to the Death of one of the Dark’s most prominent members, who has since been listed as missing and wanted by both sides.

But not tonight.

At her words, he looks away quickly, with a laugh that’s loaded with defeat. He shakes his head, ready to call her on a lie that doesn’t exist.

“Are you listening to me? I’d kill anyone who so much as _looked_ at you wrong out there. Yes, you could have stunned him. And in the next battle, he might have killed any one of us without a second thought.”

“I think you have this wrong,” James says, leaning into her touch.

“Then tell me.”

James closes his eyes, a wrinkle forming between his brows. She holds on, trailing her fingers along the side of his face, silently soothing, waiting until he’s ready to tell her.

“I don’t…feel sorry for him. I don’t regret it,” he says, opening his eyes.

She sees the flash of troubled hazel and then he’s leaning forward, so he can rest his forehead against hers. She lets out a long, shaky exhale, bringing both hands up to grip the fabric covering his shoulders.

She digs her fingers in, not enough to hurt, just to convey that she’s still with him. He’s admitted what he considers to be the worst of himself, and she’s not going anywhere. He huffs out another pained laugh, and she feels it against her lips an instant before his lips cover hers in a brief, firm kiss.

Her arms go around him as his settle over her hips, bringing them closer together. Lily hangs on, and when they pull apart, she briefly rests her face against his neck, smelling ash and sweat, and feeling his heartbeat echo in her own chest.

“No one’s asking you to,” she says in the ragged silence, both of them struggling to calm their breathing. “To regret it or tear yourself apart over it. I meant what I said, James.”

“I’m afraid. I’m…terrified, because I don’t feel any remorse over it. And I never thought…I’d get here. You know? How did we..?”

She doesn’t tell him the simple truth. The truth they’ve both known for too long. That harder days are yet to come. Harder choices, bigger losses.

That war has done this to them.

She doesn’t mention it because it’s not a good enough reason for him. Most days, even for her, it comes up lacking. But at the end of it all, more often than not, she’s left clinging tightly to it.

Knowing that she wouldn’t be this way, they wouldn’t do any of this, or consider doing much worse, if it wasn’t for this world, and this war, and their struggle to survive, together.  

It’s as simple, and complicated, as that.

“What happened tonight isn’t all you are, James. I wouldn’t be here, if it was. And you,” she says quickly, before he can comment, “Wouldn’t be with me through all of this, if all I am is what I say and do at my worst.”

His mouth hitches into the first smile she’s seen from him in far too long.

“You know, the only reason I feel even a little better is because you’ve always been the first person to call me on my shit.”

His hold around her loosens, so he can bring one hand up to tangle in her hair, fingers scraping gently against her scalp the way she likes. Her gaze flicks to his lips, nearing hers, and her body sways toward his, without thought.  

“I have always seen you,” she corrects. “For who you are.”

Their lips meet, and there’s more than a little desperation in the way they come together, tasting of ash, fear, and each other. So familiar it’s like coming home.

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” he breathes, angling his head to kiss her cheek, and then any skin he can reach.

“You have nothing to fear,” she tells him, securing his lips one last time, before breaking away.

She gets to her feet, dancing out of his grasp before he can tug her back. She offers a teasing smile as she edges closer to the door.

“A couple of miscreants are waiting for you out there. Might break down the door if I don’t deliver you to them in one piece.”

“We can’t have that, can we?”

She holds out a hand as he gets to his feet, asking that he join her at her side. He pauses for only a second, to grab his wand and place it back in its holster, before taking the outstretched hand.

He joins her with the beginnings of a smile, as she pulls him into the light of the hallway, back to his family.

Back to where they both belong. 

**Author's Note:**

> So, this comes from some ideas I have about "traditional" hurt/comfort and also the way the Order conducted themselves during the First War, and turning those ideas on there head a little. 
> 
> And this is what I ended up with. 
> 
> Want to chat? You can find me on tumblr: bipolarlilyevans


End file.
